Live event at Tate Britain, London. Strapped together and reaching the same proportions as its sculptural counter-part (by Jacob Epstein), Leckey’s speaker stack explores the space in sonic equivalence to the solidity of the form in front of of it. Occasional emissions of largely appropriated sounds address the mass as if to probe and interrogate it in a manner that suggests it is trying to understand it, testing it out. When utilised for performance the sounds hit rib-rumbling low ends at ear-ringing volume.
A prank is played on the pious Jerome: in the dark of night, another monk steals into the saint’s cell and replaces his habit with a woman’s dress. The saint, waking in the pre-dawn hour of Matins, puts on the dress and goes into the church, where the seated monks whisper at the scandal of seeing Jerome, beard and all, in the blue dress of a lady.
“[…] In Cosmos, I am telling the simple story of a simple student. This student goes to spend his holidays as a paying guest in a house where he meets two women, one has a hideous mouth which has been ruined by a motor car accident, while the other has an attractive mouth. The two mouths are associated in his mind and become an obsession. On the other hand he has seen a sparrow hanging from a wire and a piece of wood hanging from a thread… . And all this, a little out of boredom, a little out of curiosity, a little out of love, out of violent passion, starts dragging him towards a certain means of action … to which he abandons himself, but not without skepticism. […] Cosmos is an ordinary introduction to an extraordinary world, to the wings of the world, if you like.” – W. Gombrowicz
